Lying to the Present
by xXRandomnessPrevailsXx
Summary: Shiroyama Megumi never asked for this. Pop Star Kobayashi Jun always wanted something else. When she ends up his manager, she'll have to find the truth under his arrogance and fame, especially if she wants to find out why her childhood hero Dan Taichi disappeared. TaichiXOC
1. Prologue

**Hello, all! This is just a bit of a story I was thinking of writing. I'm not sure how it came to me, and no one familiar shows up in this prologue-type chapter, but this is just a quick test to see if I should continue to write it. So... onward!**

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><p>Tall. Confident. Intimidating. Brooding. He was every bit as perfect as his agency made him out to be. Every girl wanted to be with him. Every guy wanted to <em>be<em> him. He was the Sterling Boy, the pride of Phantom Heights. He wasn't the naïve little twit he used to be. He wasn't the useless shrimp of a coward he knew himself to_ have_ been. No, he'd thrown that all away for his current identity, for the person he knew was worth _something_.

That's why he became Kobayashi Jun.

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><p>Shiroyama Megumi was always the kind of girl that stood out even when she tried her best to blend in. She was always noticed without any effort on her part. In truth, it was immensely annoying. Because she stood out, people seemed to think that she stood <em>above<em>. Choosing to ignore the views of others, she grew up to be a person completely different than what they had imagined her to be.

However, her attitude didn't make her stand out less. If anything, her unique personality made her shine with a brilliance unmatched by any other. Thus, her charming beauty somehow landed her in a predicament she would have gladly given up her past fifteen years _not_ to be in.

"Shiroyama-san, here is his schedule," a young woman in semi-formal wear prompted, handing Megumi a folder and clipboard. Lifelessly, Megumi forced herself to reach out and take them, going against every gut feeling screaming out, "Don't accept those!"

The young woman smiled at her and extended a hand. "Hi. My name is Yuri. I'm fourteen, but I'm a talent scout here at the agency." Snapping herself out of her depressing state, Megumi shifted her new cargo to a black Phantom Heights tote she was given and attempted a polite smile. Hand twitching, she shared a handshake.

"Er, thanks, Yuri-chan. Buy why did you choose me to be...?"

Yuri gave her a knowing smile. "Because I know your kind. You're one of those girls who would get noticed even if you were invisible. And I can tell by your attitude and clothing style that you'd rather go on unnoticed. Right? And don't say I'm wrong or mistaken; I'm like that, too." Megumi raised an eyebrow, searching for a way to get out of the situation.

"Well," she retorted, "If I stand out so much, then why pick me? Wouldn't it be the obvious choice to pick someone who blends in?"

"Ah, but if everyone thought that way, then the plainest person is clearly the most important one. That's why we have someone who stands out to blend in." Yuri motioned with her index finger for Megumi to follow her, which the latter begrudgingly did. Her solemn snow-booted footsteps echoed across the expanse of sleek marble within Phantom Heights. The recording label was prestigious, home to only the top artists on the Japanese Pop scene. That being said, every one of their contracts was signed to a _male_.

Megumi sighed, dark chocolate and chestnut locks curling around her shoulders. Her sky blue orbs settled on the familiar faces of passersby; the six members of the famous boy band RIVET were lounging around on plush leather couches, drinking soda and aiming edible projectiles at each others' faces. The cool and collected Tadashi of 9teeN was casually waiting for his manager and band mates, perhaps a girlfriend. A quick scan around the rest of the building told Megumi that the boy-girl ratio was about 5:1. She rolled her eyes and prayed that none would approach her, but she shivered as she caught quite a few glancing her way.

"By the way," Megumi ventured, "where are we going?" She skipped a little in her steps to catch up to Yuri. The fourteen-year-old looked inexplicably mature and poised with her childish side-ponied ebony hair and her large, relaxed bright caramel eyes.

"To start your new job!" Yuri chirped. Megumi paused out of sheer disbelief, then trailed after Yuri with curses under her breath.

"But I only met you half an hour ago! I can't start a new job right _now! _I don't even have parental consent or a contract or _anything!_"

With a Cheshire grin, Yuri's previously innocent face was ghosted by an intense commanding aura. "Don't worry; it's all taken care of. But don't think you can just blow this off and run away." Silently, she made her way to the elevator and motioned for Megumi to stand next to her. The enclosed space soon filled up and eventually, they made their way to the eighth floor of Phantom Heights' main building.

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><p><strong>Yes, like I told you, no one familiar yet. But trust me, Dan Taichi will show up! (I mean, this <em>is <em>a TaichiXOC story after all...)**

**Anyway, leave me your feedback and let me know what you think!  
><strong>


	2. It's Got to Be the Very Best

**Bleh, I couldn't be bothered to wait for a review to drop since I already typed up this chapter. So I hope whoever's reading this likes it!**

**(The first few chapters are more of a plot/character development arc. The mystery-solving comes in later.)(And so does the romantic aspect!)  
><strong>

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><p>Kobayashi Jun was casually sprawled across the garnet leather couch in the Sterling Boy's quarters. The Quarters were quite large, being able to house a full bath plus Jacuzzi, a complete kitchen area with constantly replaced hi-tech appliances, and even two or three bedrooms with queen- or king-sized silk-endowed mattresses. The area he was lounging in was called the entertainment area due to the various electronic media players lying about; XBoxes, Wiis, a stereo taller than Jun's 174 centimeter height, a full-screen LCD television, the works. The ice blue walls offered little warmth, especially so since the metallic chic of the interior design played off the distant nonchalance of Phantom Heights' top man. Clad in a blue-white long-sleeve and white skinny jeans topped by black combat boots and a black sleeveless hoodie with gray faux-fur trim, Jun was the vision of an angel on the verge of being snagged by the demons of Hell. The silver wallet chains and fake earring-to-lip-piercing chain only furthered his rogue demeanor, which was what most women in Japan found so intriguing about him. His natural raven locks framed his porcelain skin loosely, hanging in layers just above his collar bones. He found himself staring pointlessly at the white ceiling, later darting his eyes to the figure entering through dark cherry oak double doors as they opened.<p>

"Ah, Yuri. It's just you," Jun stated, reaching for the T.V. remote that sat on the glass coffee table next to him. He flicked the power button, mindlessly studying the characters of some anime called _Shin Tenisu no Oujisama_. He didn't bother to give her a second glance as he waited for her to recite his schedule for post-lunch to midnight. Five seconds passed and Jun could feel uneasy tension in the air as Yuri's caramel eyes bore holes through his skull. Finally turning to face her, he called, "Yuri?"

Instead, he was face-to-face with some teenage girl he'd never seen before in his life. A surprised yelp escaped his throat as the girl shushed him and moved to sit next to him on the couch. All the while, her clear blue eyes were trained on the anime. Her amber-dusted chocolate hair fell in waves to her elbows in an effortless grace, drawing attention to the faded, torn amethyst jacket she was wearing. Dark denim boot-cuts seemed to have risen from the dumpster to hug her legs, accompanied by a yellowed pair of once-white sneakers. She looked simple enough, like the kind of girl who made a rural farm her home, but there was an underlying beauty Jun couldn't place his finger on. And for that reason, he broke out of his stupor.

"The _hell_ are you?" Jun spat, later searching for a way to restate that in a kinder manner. He cursed his tongue for slipping so rudely to a stranger. He tried to apologize, only to be silenced by the girl once more. She hadn't even done so much as _glance _in his direction since settling down next to him! When the show cut to a commercial break, she hummed to herself and grinned, anxious for its return.

"Shiroyama-san. Shiroyama-san. Shiroyama-san!" Yuri repeated what Jun assumed was the girl's last name until the filthy yet pretty female snapped out of her anime-induced trance.

"Hai?" she replied, oblivious to the clear task at hand. Jun questioned her mental state before shoving the thought away and tapped her lightly on the arm. With a bit a jump, she averted her attention to him and he saw her face clearly. She was pale enough that a slight blush from the cold winter air colored her cheeks. Full, rosy lips were chapped, but nonetheless very feminine. Naturally long eyelashes that were thin and light blinked at Jun, indicating that girl was startled and curious. Then she did something Jun never thought possible.

The girl slumped over onto the coffee table, smudging the glass by rubbing her forehead into it. "I forgot, I have to deal with... Ugh... Yuri-chan, do I _really_ have to work with this guy?"

"Yuri, what's going on?" Jun asked coolly, trying not to let his temper rise. It wasn't every day that he ran into a genuine doll without her shrieking her whims at him. But never before had a girl openly expressed her _refusal_ to be near him. Truth be told, it hurt a bit inside, as though the doll had thrown a hammer at his chest.

Yuri ignored them both, concentrating on the vibrant yellow tangs in a heated tropical fish tank. "Hmm... these guys look lonely. I'm going to shop for some new friends for them. Maybe I'll get some more food while I'm at it..." Yuri muttered to herself as she headed for the door. "Oh, and you two make nice, okay? I'll be back in an hour or so." The cherry oak barrier shut quite loudly in the ever-present silence between the star and the doll.

"Ano..." the doll started. Her voice had softened and all traces of previous annoyance were gone, leaving an apologetic waver in its place. "_Gomen_... About what I said earlier. That was rude." She paused, unsure of what to say next. Jun couldn't help but feel remorse for the bubbling animosity he held towards her— "But I _did _mean it."

His hostility returned.

Jun sighed; he couldn't forcefully make her change her mind or anything drastic like that. He was only sixteen, after all, and the doll—no matter how much he despised it—looked no older, either. So he settled for using the technique he'd created and put it to work.

"That's nice. But it's nearly lunch time and I'm a _very_ busy man. I've got appointments to keep, so if you'd just state your name and your business so you can get on with your life, I'd appreciate it." Jun saw the doll's eyes twitch in vexation; personally, he did too, because he _loathed_ having to be so callous. But he'd already learned his lesson some years ago, when kindness became his downfall... And he _wasn't_ the Sterling Boy for nothing. The title was reserved for only the best heartbreakers in Phantom Heights' industry, so he had to play up his role and get the doll back to her shelf.

"Very well then, _Kobayashi-san_," the doll sneered with disgust. "My name is Shiroyama. Yuri-chan hired me by chance today. As your new manager, I will see to it that the next few days of your life are a living hell. _Yoroshiku_."

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><p><strong>Wouldn't you all hate to be stuck with a person you've just met that acts like either one of them? (I would! Even though I made them that way...)<strong>

**So I hoped you enjoyed! I'll be updating this whether or not it gets reviews, but people telling me I should update will elicit an update.**

**~Randomness  
><strong>


	3. I Need Somebody

**This chapter is dedicated to Radiance Within, whose review reminded me that I can't just keep thinking about plots for eternity without putting some of it into words! :]  
><strong>

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><p>The doll's smile was completely devoid of its previous regrets, laced with venom, and <em>very<em> comparable to a sword of ice. Jun was unsure of what to do; his options were to argue back with her or to silently take it in as he _used_ to when he was a nobody.

Jun grimaced. Though he preferred not to, he chose to go with the first option. No part of that _pathetic _shrimp's shell was going to resurface because he'd gotten rejected for the first time! If even the slightest bit came back, then all the broken pieces would start falling into place... And when that happened, maybe—just _maybe_—his past would find him.

"I'd like to see you _try_, Doll. I've stepped on plenty of hearts belonging to precious babes like you; what difference would one more make?" Speaking like this was disgusting, as well as a blatant lie. He'd never even had a single girlfriend, but a few fangirls had run away with their imagination for sure. Jun hoped this girl would back off before he had to publicly humiliate her so she'd stop.

Jun slipped an arm around her shoulders, feeling her squirm uncomfortably under his grasp. "Now, as you were saying, Doll?" Narrow, darkened blue slits glared at him seconds before he registered a sharp pain from slightly lower than his stomach. A stifled groan escaped his throat as he released the hostile girl and knelt down next to the couch.

"The hell was that for?" he rasped. Doll, ignoring his agony, instead picked up a black Phantom Heights tote from the floor next to her. She pulled out a folder and flipped through some pages, apparently reaching the one she wanted.

"Phantom Heights' main building is located in Toranomon, correct? 1:30 to 3:00, you have an interview with Iseki Mina of _HoneySpice!_ magazine in Kagurazaka, Shinjuku. You are forbidden from interacting with fans here, as the red-light district is quite close to the café Iseki-san will meet with us at. After that, 3:45 to 6:30. A photo-shoot for _Discord Melodica_ consisting of modeling their new emo-punk line for winter and spring clothes. This is in Ginza, Chuo. Finally, starting at 8 sharp, your _Overworld_ concert begins in Shibuya. Don't forget to take care of your voice during this time. That being said, let's go. We have to get lunch and it's already almost eleven."

Belladonna (Jun's new nickname for the girl—she was definitely a gorgeous female with a deadly underlying personality) got up, brushing off what invisible dust was on her already filthy attire. She tossed a glance in Jun's direction, muttering "wuss" in a voice meant to be still audible to him. Rolling her eyes, she stood arms akimbo towards him.

"I don't know what kind of women you disgusting boys play around with here and I don't _want _to know. But know these two things that may very well save your bloodline; one, I do not appreciate nor do I tolerate pet names, physical contact, or any _hint _of personal association with people like _you. _And two—" Belladonna squatted down to Jun's eye level, grabbing his raven locks without concern for his growing discomfort.

"—I am not some kind of self-wallowing pushover. You yank on my heart-guts, I rip out your genitals." She gave the shocked boy two disconcerting pats on the head and went to wait for him by the door, black tote in hand.

Apparently having returned to her calm reserve, she singsonged, "Kobayashi-san, are you coming? In the mean time, I'll call for a limousine and make a reservation for—ah, which restaurant do you wish to dine at?"

Jun slowly, steadily rose to his feet, gawking in disbelief at his manager. How could this girl's multiple personalities interchange so fleetingly? One reason he never dealt with females—too confusing. The more men tried to unravel their mental state, the more they lost themselves to madness. Remembering her inquiries, he attempted to keep up with her unstable pace.

"..._Desire_, that Old English-styled restaurant that opened up a few blocks away..." Belladonna gave him a heartening smile as he made his way over to her and let her ahead through the door—the only thing wrong was that he couldn't tell if it was because she was satisfied with his behavior or because she was plotting his punishment for being so cheeky.

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><p>"Thank you, Kobayashi-san," Megumi curtly replied. Her day had been amusing since she had hit the teen idol where Mother Nature had split him. In blatant desperation shadowed by pride to get into her good graces, he had taken it upon himself to be as gentlemanly as possible. She'd already forgiven him—the past should dwell in the past and people should dwell in the future—but Megumi found being served practically hand and foot wasn't such a bad thing. The Sterling Boy courteously pushed her seat in for her before taking a seat himself. Nervously, he fiddled with the napkin ring that bundled polished silverware in with a folded and pressed silvery blue cloth.<p>

"...just 'Jun' is fine, since you're my manager and we'll be working together for some time," Sterling beamed. _Che, is this guy trying to charm me? What a naïve tactic. _Megumi busied herself with the centerpiece, a small glass vase with intricate carvings and a delicate bouquet of sweetpeas and Baby's Breath_. _Heaving a sigh, she turned to the idol boy and hit his arm lightly to get his attention. Startled, he looked up at her, cheeks tinted slightly out of embarrassment for having been so easily alarmed.

"Fine. I'll call you Jun." She ruffled her hair, unsure of what to say next. Should she apologize for kicking him in the... The Place? Should she properly introduce herself? Should she try to learn more about the idol she was managing?

"Whatever, _Doll_."

_What...?_

"Just shut up and start gushing about how _wonderful _it is to be my new manager."

_What?_

"The last thing I need is for those tabloid writers over there to think I've got the hots for this 'mystery woman', as they like to put it."

_WHAT?_

Jun's underhanded instructions were masked by resting his chin in the palm of his hand and pretending to analyze his surroundings. Megumi, however, did not blend in so well, what with the idol boy giving her _orders_ and all. Her face twitched, then she delicately grasped a cup of water set down in front of her and flicked her wrist ever so slightly. This caused the liquids in the cup to relocate onto Sterling Boy's face, where it seemed to belong.

Without a moment's hesitation, she called a waiter (who was taken aback by Jun's frozen shock) over to ask for some towels and to take their orders once her 'clumsy problem' tidied himself up. A few bright flares of (presumably) a camera's flash didn't go unnoticed as two figures from a distant table hastily made their exit. Megumi leisurely scolded Jun for being so lax with his glass of water, enjoying his stupor with a deceivingly adorable pout.

"What the hell was that for?" he hissed, face contorted with fury as well as a napkin. Megumi huffed and crossed her arms, building her image as an innocent 15-year-old even higher.

"I told you not to push it, Jun-kun. You shouldn't mess with things when I tell you _not _to."

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><p>This woman was surely a devil, not a stupid doll or flower! Both of the latter were at least pretty, but this girl was unkempt on the outside with a demon locked within. Jun made certain to tread lightly whenever she was around or involved with anything. He recalled the fiasco at the restaurant; all through the course, his clothes didn't dry out a bit. Then, knowing full well that he wanted so much to travel by heated car to their appointment with Iseki Mina, Shiroyama insisted that they walk off the calories they had just taken in. (It was ridiculous—everyone knew idols always kept the weight off somehow. That, and he had reverted to calling her by last name in case another nickname he came up for her slipped.)<p>

So there he was, inside a cutesy, girly café sneezing like a freakin' elephant while his demon manager was warming up with a nice mug of hot chocolate.

"Oh, hush, Jun-kun, you're going to spread germs," Shiroyama announced loudly. Some customers and a nearby waitress glanced over, whispers adding up to make a cacophony that drowned out a RIVET song playing over the speakers. Jun glared at Shiroyama, who gave him an innocent snicker into her mug; _You're famous—deal with it_, she seemed to say. Jun grumbled inwardly; he couldn't say anything to her on account of his being monitored. He leaned back into his seat in their booth as a waitress shyly approached them with a set of menus.

"W-would you like to see the menu, or is your party still waiting for someone?" the waitress stuttered. Chocolate doe eyes blinked innocently, questioning the dangerous aura silently as she nervously ran her hand through a strand of wavy russet hair.

Shiroyama answered, "Ah, we're still waiting for one." Jun could see the waitress bob her head in understanding.

Jun gave her a fleeting glance, her orbs widening when she recognized him. She opened her mouth to speak, but then decided against it when the idol pressed an index finger to his lips. She nodded announced that she would be back to check on them.

Half an hour had passed. Impatiently, Shiroyama kept gazing at the entrance of the café whenever the door chime rang. During the time, the russet-haired waitress brought the two of them some small desert cakes and fresh coffee "on the house", as she had said. It irritated him; Jun knew she knew who he was, and why she didn't confront him about it bothered him. Then he saw it. On a small portion of the doily his cake sat on, there where tiny black markings. Casually, he leaned forward to take a bite of chocolate mousse, peering at the phone number the waitress had scribbled for him. Memorizing it, he set his fork down on top of the ink, ensuring that his demon manager didn't see.

Shiroyama brought out her phone, which was playing 9teeN's debut song in an 8-bit form. Jun smirked at her nostalgia, she in turn sending him a nasty sneer and looking at her phone screen. Her face looked appalled as she snapped the cell shut and stored it back in her jeans pocket.

"Iseki-san's canceled on us." Jun stared at his manager in disbelief. She sighed and sank in her seat.

"She _canceled_?"

"Mm-hmm. She caught a cold yesterday, ran a fever this morning, and was unable to go to work today. Her company sent me a text." Shiroyama absently stabbed at the remains of her tiramisú cake, then shoveled the rest into her mouth.

"Well, at least got free cake, right?" Jun prodded. If she was in a bad mood, then she would simply compensate by making his life _that _much more miserable.

"Urgh. Yeah. Free cake on the account of that waitress over there slipping you her number." Shiroyama sipped her coffee calmly as Jun proceeded to nearly choke on his cake. Widened hazel eyes questioned the manager, who scoffed.

"Honestly, Jun, don't ask. Just go talk to her. But make it quick. I'm calling a limo and we should be ready to head to Ginza in five."

She softly pushed out of her chair, grabbing her tote before hastily heading out the café door. Jun questioned her speed; did it have anything to do with the fact that she caught him looking at the waitress' number? He shook the thought out of his head and was shortly joined by the waitress who'd recognized him. She was out of her uniform, so she must have been off her shift.

"So, how are you and your long-time crush, Kuno-chan?"

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><p>Megumi watched as her newest problem was joined by the pretty waitress. It was a bit awkward, sitting at a table outside to watch them through the window, but it wasn't necessarily stalking, was it? She figured she'd have to gather some intel on him if she was supposed to work with the fruitcake.<p>

Fruitcake broke the silence, saying something that made the waitress smile. The girl brought out her phone and showed Jun a picture of her and another boy at the park, both blushing and smiling as they shared a single silver scarf. Jun grinned at her and patted her head as the girl started to converse with him.

_So they're just friends? _Megumi thought. _How boring. And here I was hoping to find out the underlying plot of some tragic love story._

Some twenty minutes passed in the same manner; they talked, laughed, talked some more, and then looked at a picture or two. At some point, the conversation seemed to land on a heavy topic, but the girl ended up shaking her head and pressing an index finger to her lips. Things weren't so dandy for Megumi, however. In those twenty-some minutes, a group of obnoxious boys had come over to hit on her, distracting her from people-watching. One had even gone so far as to try and kiss her, to which she promptly refused with a roundhouse kick to his face. They all ran, screaming in terror, but then she had drawn the attention of other people passing by. One boy with bright orange hair—was he a delinquent or just eager to impress?—kept eying her creepily. Megumi had to give him a glare that said _bite me_ before he finally gave up and went inside the café.

Finally, Jun got up to leave, saying goodbye to his waitress friend. The orange-haired creep bumped into Jun and apologized, but the idol swiftly turned the other way and headed towards the door. Megumi could feel her anger rising. Jun had found her outside and went to join her.

She punched him in the face.

"Just because you're an idol doesn't mean you can ignore people when they apologize to you! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Jun nursed a broken, bleeding nose, staining his light long-sleeves in crimson. "Could ask the same about _you_," he spat.

A black limo pulled up to the curb. The chauffeur stepped out and held the door open for Jun and Megumi. She pushed her problem into the car, thanking the chauffeur and taking a seat inside the plush vehicle. She turned back to Jun as the chauffeur, sensing the mood, put up the glass barrier.

"Yuri-san said you were high maintenance and that I had my work cut out for me. No wonder. You're a snobby, manipulative brat who has time for other dudes' girls, but won't even accept an apology from a sincerely sorry guy. It'll take a whole lot more than punches and kicks to fix this one."

Jun, attempting to lid his anger and keep his lower half safe from his demon manager's fury, was silent for some time before asking, "...fixing this one what?"

Megumi scoffed at him, fixating a glare to his darkened eyes. "Your rotten attitude, Pop Star. You're worse than that boy with fire-hair who kept looking at me; he was disturbing, but at least he had some manners!"

He switched his gaze to wander about the scenery beyond the window, quiet and irritated all the same. But Megumi couldn't place the other emotions that lingered in his dark honey eyes: sorrow? Regret? And for what reason?

"Even celebrities have secrets they won't share, Shiroyama." He turned to meet her eyes, expression full of melancholic calm and a bitterness from the past. "And it's not that I won't tell you, it's that I _can't _tell you. If I trust you, I'll fall back to the past... even after I worked so hard to distance it from me."

Brooding heartache shadowed his pale face in a sickly shade of pain. The pop star redirected his solemn expression to the window again as he allowed his manager to process what he'd just told her.

Some time passed between the two, soundless, motionless. A heavy air threatened to suffocate them both, but neither made any effort to keep so from happening. Jun did nothing because he couldn't say any more on the subject without risking his escape from the past.

Megumi felt that she had no place to do anything. Words to more words, building trust inevitably until the pressure was too much to bear without hearing truth. So she said nothing more. Running away was something she had experienced, and she wasn't about to ruin it for someone else, no matter how pompous and grand a façade they weaved. She understood Jun loud and clear when he revealed what little he could:

_Please. Help me._

So subtle was his plea that she felt the need to shed tears and curse at the wind for his sake. Yet, at the same time, she couldn't do anything. Right now, this boy was fragile, so fragile that if she so much as breathed, he would shatter. So she held her tongue and fought the tears that loomed on her eyelashes. When the car ride was over, they would act as though nothing happened. He was unfathomably discourteous and she was needlessly violent with him. That was all they would ever appear to be, and Megumi wasn't sure if she could guide him across that decaying bridge without him plunging headfirst into despair.

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><p>Well, maybe it would have happened like that had Megumi been the perfect little soft-hearted romantic Pop Star believed she was. But she wasn't.<p>

"Oh, suck it _up_, Romeo."

Incredulity cause Jun to give his manager a wide-eyed stare. "...what?"

Megumi rolled her eyes at his intelligible answer. "Listen, just because you came too close for comfort with your past doesn't mean you can try and use me as an emotional counselor. Think about your problems and try to solve them on your own first; if it's too much to handle, go find help. But get it from someone you trust more than me who knows what the hell's going on in the first place."

Jun shifted uneasily, unsure of what he should do next. Apologize? Chide her? He mentally whacked himself. _Both. Duh._

"You believed me? I was just joking... mostly. So, sorry for making you think seriously about a nonexistent life-altering dilemma."

This was great. He had basically trapped himself in the inescapable corner of Perpetual Enemies with Megumi. But if she knew any better, which she did, it was that someone trying to get away from previous blunders would need someone to trust first, and she deduced that if _he _was telling _her_ of all people to save him, he didn't have any reliable supports.

Megumi sighed. Somehow, she'd have to mend their relationship and help Jun see the light from his dark history.

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><p><strong>And so ends another chapter. Though it took FOREVER to write and even more forever to update. But I hope you guys liked it! It shouldn't take too long for the next chapter to go up.<strong>

**~Randomness  
><strong>


	4. My Dirty Little Secret

**Good gosh beans, it's been four months since I've been gone and near 6 months since an update? Whoops.**

**Sorry, I'm lame. I had Finals and I got sick halfway through the week (again), my dad came back temporarily from his deployment in Afgahnistan, and then I kinda went into a month-long depression.**

**Well, enjoy...**

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><p>A thick tension filled the silent air, to the point where the chauffeur felt it necessary to bring down the glass barrier in order to ensure that both teens were unharmed and in good health. Shiroyama had answered with a polite "We're fine" while Jun grumbled out, "Just peachy." The older man nodded and returned the glass shield.<p>

Shiroyama crossed her arms and legs, absent-mindedly studying the various high-end buildings of Ginza. She chewed on her lip nervously; she had just punched one of Japan's biggest stars in the face and had possibly broken his nose. God knows what her client's fangirls would do to her once they found out. She pinched the bridge of her own nose in contemplation. A glance at Jun told her that he was still in pain and trying not to show it in effort to save face. A twinge of guilt flitted across her mind as she recalled how to care for a nosebleed.

She muttered a begrudging apology before taking the matter into her own hands. The manager roughly grabbed hold of Jun's boots and swiveled them around so as to force him to lie down on the limo's plush leather seat. Perplexed and a little more than alarmed, Jun protested, earning him a glare from his manager and one of her cold, tiny hands to cover his eyes. Complying, he eased his head down and tried not to panic about the amount of blood he had lost.

So far it had proven to be challenging day, and he knew he was partly at fault for it. If he had just told Shiroyama exactly the reason why he had brushed off that guy from before... No. He couldn't do that. Specifying his justifications would unwind the years of effort he'd put into getting this far with himself. He sighed as Shiroyama's calloused fingers gingerly inspected the wound they had inflicted. A searing pain shot through his face and he instinctively brought up his hand to push away his manager's.

"Well, the good thing is that your nose isn't broken, just bruised. You haven't lost too much blood, judging by what's on your shir—"

She cut off suddenly, blue eyes boring into his. He looked down to where she had been mentioning, and understood the weight of the dilemma. His bright garnet blood had marred the white-blue shirt he was to wear for the photoshoot.

"OH, crap, what the _hell_ am I going to do about this?" Jun whined, pushing his head into his hands. "The guys at _Discord Melodica_ told me this is just a promo outfit and they don't have any extras!"

Shiroyama cursed and chewed her bottom lip, thinking about how they might get rid of the stain. Eyeing a few water bottles in the cup holders of the vehicle, she had a vague inkling about blood stains being removed with cold water, then found herself dabbing softly at the pop star's nose with a wet handkerchief she produced from her pocket. Jun was taken aback.

"W-wha—" he sputtered.

Shiroyama hissed, "Shut up. We need to get as much blood cleaned up as we can, and by the looks of things we're gonna be there soon." Jun tensed slightly as she started wiping away the blood that had dribbling onto his chin. He shifted uncomfortably when she insisted on cleaning the blood on his neck—that water was friggin' _cold—_and worse yet, what scarlet liquid had flowed down his chest. He released a sigh he didn't know he'd been holding when Shiroyama pulled back and viewed the remaining damage. He contemplated simply telling the company what had happened truthfully and apologizing for ruining the clothes.

_But that'll mess with your image, _his inner self sneered. _Kobayashi Jun doesn't make mistakes. _He was so busy working out his plan of action he almost missed Shiroyama's next demand of him.

_Almost._

"Strip."

He looked at her blankly, wide eyes lost and waiting for her to chide him for believing she'd request something so ridiculous.

But she didn't.

His face blanched, then paled as he realized, _Oh, shit, she's being serious._

Frustrated with his reaction, or lack thereof, her chapped lips pulled into a frown as she gripped Jun's sleeveless hoodie and worked his arms out of it. His mind worked slowly to process what was occurring, but he grabbed Shiroyama's wrists by instinct when he felt his shirt being lifted up, exposing his stomach.

"What are you doing?" he growled. His dark honey eyes were shadowed by his ebony hair, but the blatant splash of pink across his face might have made Shiroyama laugh if she weren't so set on clearing the blood. Instead, she met his gaze.

She sneered, "Don't flatter yourself, Princess, I'm trying to save your career! Arms up!" He continued to refuse. They were nearing their destination and there was still a deep red embedded on his clothes! Thinking quickly, she pressed the damp, cold handkerchief to his stomach. Surprised, Jun relaxed his grip on her wrists slightly and gasped. Using the confusion to her advantage, Shiroyama managed to slip the garment up until his arms, where she was stopped again by Jun's strength.

"Cut it out, Shiro—YAAHH!"

"Shut up! There's blood on your chest, too!"

Jun struggled to get her hands off his shirt, pushing her away as he tried to gain some leverage. This only resulted in his manager fighting back to lift his shirt off his arms, angrily swiping at what blood she could from his torso. Fed up with his inablility to cooperate, she twisted her wrists out of his hands.

But Jun failed to foresee this and the strength he'd been using had nowhere to go.

It was only natural that they both toppled over onto the floor of the limo, which now seemed too cramped despite its rather large interior. Both pairs of eyes clamped shut and braced for impact, which came as a loud _thud _accompanied by a ripping noise. They both winced; something hard had come into contact with their lips, crashing into their teeth as well and causing a bit of bleeding.

Jun pushed himself up a bit before opening his eyes out of curiosity. To his joy, he hadn't kissed his manager—_that_ would have been such a shoujo-esque cliche _nightmare_—but he was instead met by flesh, partially covered by a faded purple jacket and a gray t-shirt. Still dazed, he noticed that the fake lip ring he'd been wearing as part of his costume had come loose, almost dangling loosely below where his mouth had landed. He propped himself up on an elbow to retrieve it, shocked when he found that the flesh where his lip ring rested was soft. Confused as to where, exactly, he had faceplanted, Jun glanced up. He was met by shocked, cerulean eyes framed by a reddish blush. Jun froze and looked back at where he had landed; just below his demon manager's neck, which made the soft flesh his lip ring landed on—

"Might I ask _why_ you are poking around the upper part of my chest?"

Swiftly, Jun recomposed himself in his orginal seat, choughing (albeit unsubtly) and offering Shiroyama a hand in getting up. The atmosphere had fallen back to undisturbed quietude, this time in discomforting awkwardness. Averting his eyes to anywhere but his demon manager—whom he was _sure_ thought him a lowlife pervert—he caught a glimpse of the glass barrier.

It had just closed.

He swore inwardly; this was just fantastic! Their chauffeur probably saw—if not heard—all the recent transpiring events. And had gotten the wrong idea. His luck had been on the rise since he was 12, the age he'd been scouted after he had reconstructed himself. But all that seemed to have vanished in the span of the scant six hours he'd spent with this girl.

Shiroyama also looked less than thrilled about the current situation. Though, that didn't make sense. Most would have been ecstatic to accept a job managing _any _individual who had Phantom Heights supporting them. The company mail was constantly spammed by desperate resumes to fill any available position—well, amongst the fan mail and marriage requests.

His demon manager seemed to have been plucked right off the streets. She admittedly was a little... _less _than what Phantom Heights usually hired and more than reluctant to be in contact with idols or anyone of the like. Then again, he knew that she had a 9teeN ringtone...

What the hell was her angle? She hated him but liked others he'd known for years? Jun turned to study Shiroyama's face, as though she would give him all the answers if he stared at her long enough.

He was instead met by a flustered blush and then darkness. Jun removed whatever was obstructing his view, obviously having been thrown at him by his demon manager. He recognized it as the sleeveless hoodie he'd been wearing earlier. He sighed in exasperation.

"Shiroyama, I'm sorry I fell on you and I'm sorry I touched your..." he stopped and closed his eyes. God, this was embarrassing. "...you know." Jun stripped off his shirt with ease, clearly aware of the fact that his demon manager was too ashamed of herself to even look his way, let alone meet his eyes.

"Here." Jun offered her the soiled clothing. He could see the shoot location a mere five blocks away, but they were slowly approaching as the street was filled with pedestrians. Cautiously, she inched towards the fabric, in case her client tried to pull another stunt. Shiroyama snatched it and began to rub it down with more water and her handkerchief. Jun wormed his arms through the hoodie to try keep himself warm; his demon manager noticed this and did something he didn't expect.

"I'm sorry, too." Jun looked up in disbelief . She simply continued with her task.

"I'm sorry I tried to force off your shirt without explaining why beforehand. And I'm sorry I ruined it twice," she murmured.

_She must not be used to bloodying celebrities' shirts or apologizing... One of the two, maybe both,_ he thought. Then he looked at his manager in confusion.

"Twice?" She held up the garment, displaying a tear that had completely ripped off the left sleeve at the seams. Jun leaned his head back on the window behind him with a _bang_.

"Hell," he groaned. "What am I going to tell them now? I've got no excuse, we're pulling up to the curb, my image is getting dragged through the mud, and I STILL don't have a shirt on!" Shiroyama stared at him pointedly, words on her tongue yet caught in her throat.

"I've got a plan, but just play along, Pop Star. I might screw up shirts, but not lives. The paparazzi is out there and so are some escorts, so just act naturally, got it?" she hissed hurriedly. Jun narrowed his caramel eyes at her incredulously and watched as she flung her chocolate chestnut locks over her face. The chauffeur opened the door nervously (as he had witnessed the awkward highlight of the day). Blinding camera flashes ensued. Cue waterworks.

Shiroyama started sobbing erratically while Jun, bewildered as all hell, played it cool and rubbed her back in an act of comfort.

"Come on, babe," he prompted, testing his limits in case his demon manager decided to humiliate him again. "It's alright."

That statement only served to make her cry _more_. "No!" she protested, "It's not alright! I... I...!"

"Let's get you some fresh air first, sweetheart." Jun guided her outside, a hand on the small of her back. He prayed that he was doing well with his acting. Once he was standing in the crisp wintery air, the low temperature hit him full force, reducing him to a slight shiver. A warmth enveloped his chest with a bit of pressure and he peered down to identify the source.

It was his demon manager, still going into hysterics over his soiled clothing. She clung to his person and attempted to speak.

"Hey, hey, sweetheart," he cooed, tilting her chin up so she faced him. "Calm down. Everything's fine. This," he gestured to the shirt, "wasn't your fault."

"Yes it is! Stop trying to convince me otherwise!" she snapped at him. Shiroyama's eyes were red and puffy, crocodile tears already flowing freely. _Damn_, Jun mused, _she knows what she's doing._

"If I hadn't been so clumsy, we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place! I ripped off your sleeve when I tripped and grabbed it to save myself, and on top of that I got a nosebleed, passed out, and wrecked your clothes even though you helped me! And... and now you're shivering!"

_Shiroyama _really_ knows what she's doing._

But her constant self-blame and weeping weren't really helping. So he pressed her back against the limousine and took her face in his hands, effectively shocking her out of tears.

"I already said not to worry about it, sweetheart," Jun frowned. Tons of shutter clicks went off and the scratching of pen on paper was more than audible. Many teenage girls were going to squeal once this juicy tidbit was published.

"Listen, babe," he drawled. "The guys here at Discord Melodica aren't going to chew us out. They understand, accidents happen." The idol shoved himself off the stunned girl and turned over his shoulder.

Smirking, he added, "Of course, if you still feel like you owe me something, then you're free to bring that" —he pointed at the shirt— "and follow me inside. I'm sure the staff will let you help out if we explain." Jun had no qualms about his demon manager secretly wishing to slap the smug expression off his face.

Cheeks darkening to a rosy hue, Shiroyama tailed him wordlessly, head ducked in assumed embarrassment mixed with happiness. At that moment, Jun remembered one last crucial detail he had left to clean up. He spotted his chauffeur and called out. "Oh, and Sakuraba-san? What happened between me and this young lady in the car," he put a finger to his lips with a sly smile, "_stays_ in the car."

* * *

><p>Once safely inside the security of the building, Pop Star swiveled around, meeting his manager face to face. Megumi was forced to stop abruptly in her tracks as he leaned forward only the slightest bit to bring himself to her eye level.<p>

"How are you able to pull something like that so flawlessly? I'm pretty damn sure you're not an actress, but you had all those tabloid writers eating that crap out of your hands like it was gold!"

Choosing to ignore him, she shuffled past, faking a last few sniffles. He glowered. He had to make sure his demon manager understood one thing, no matter what the hell else occurred. Gripping her arm and pulling her flush against his side, he growled darkly.

"Listen, _babe_," Pop Star sneered. "What happened in the limo stays there like I said. Outside, it doesn't change a damn thing about my attitude towards you as my manager. Now look pretty and act miserable."

Reluctantly, she complied. Megumi knew full well the importance of keeping the past behind oneself, but she didn't like how her personal _headache _handled people around him. Tempted to spit in his face, she settled for childishly sticking her tongue out at him and allowing him to drape an arm around her small frame. To any onlookers, it seemed that he was consoling her. The thought nearly made her laugh bitterly; Pop Star had the exact opposite effect.

Shortly, they were approached by a man who looked only a few years their senior. Messily toussled bleach-blonde hair and pink streaks were accompanied by mischievous jade eyes and a knowing grin. He was clad in simple black slacks, matching leather shoes and suspenders, and a white button-up rolled to his elbows. Clapping Jun on the back, he whistled a low tone and gave Megumi a once-over.

"You sure know how to pick up your women," the stranger chuckled. "This little lady is cute!" Uncomfortable even without acting the part, she siddled behind Jun and gazed at him pleadingly. _Please tell this freak to get lost. And I am _not_ your woman._

"She's _not_ my woman, Hayato," he growled.

_Good boy._

"This is Shiroyama. She accidently ripped apart the shirt and got blood all over it, so she feels like she owes me a favor. That's why she's here." Pop Star's tone was anything but amused.

"Bullshit", Hayato countered, "Yuri called me and said you had a new manager. By the sounds of your story, you ran into a bit of trouble with her already. Am I wrong?"

"No, you're not," Megumi sighed. She could finally stop charading as a damsel in distress. Catching Jun sneaking a smile under his hand, she scoffed at him, "Enjoy the performance while it lasts, _Princess_. After this, you are announcing me as your newly-appointed manager, which isn't a far stretch from the truth."

"Mmm..." Hayato hummed in appreciation. "She's feisty! I like this one. Can I keep her, Jun?" The weirdo tapped Megumi's chin, leaning over to get a closer look. She made a face and turned away, swatting his hand off.

"I am not an object and I have a name. It's Shiroyama Megumi."

Hayato smiled back at her curt response. "Haneoka Hayato, this twat's long-time friend and designer-slash-photographer extraordiniare. I'm in charge of this particular shoot. Which reminds me, what _really_ went on with your shirt, Jun? I doubt Gumi-chan would trip—"

_Gumi-chan?_

"That happens to be _his_ blood, not mine. We had a bit of a... _problem_ earlier. " She shot a glare at Pop Star, to which he replied likewise.

Hayato frowned, scratching the back of his head. "That's going to be a bit of a setback. If we had someone else, we could sell off the blood and rip as part of the story conveyed in the picture... Of course, I have a scenario in mind, but it'll take some time to contact a model and that's going to push back your whole sched..."

Megumi heard Jun chuckle from behind her. "I know someone," he offered. _Oh, hell no._

She glanced at the idol, a flash of a sadistic smirk played across his lips. "Really?" Hayato questioned, eyebrows raised. "Who?" _Jun, you little—_

Pop Star pushed her forward. "Her." The photographer studied her hard, considering her face and figure, nodding in approval.

"With a wardrobe change, some makeup, a bit of hair care..." he muttered aloud, "Yes! She's perfect." Hayato placed an arm around her shoulders and ushered her towards the elevators. "Come on, Gumi-chan, we've got a transformation under way!"

Megumi glowered at Jun, teeth gritted in an unforgiving scowl.

_I HATE YOU._

Jun simply grinned back, thoroughly enjoying his bit of fun and payback.

_I know._


End file.
